


Purloined

by Brumeier



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:59:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John knows he should clear up the laundry mix-up, but not before he takes Rodney's high-end sheets for a test-drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purloined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smiles2go](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiles2go/gifts).



> I'm working on a birthday gift fic for Smiles2go. This is NOT that fic, but I'm over a month behind and I wanted to give her something in the meantime because I feel bad for the delay. Hopefully some porn will tide her over. ::grins::

John knew the instant he picked up the sheets that they weren’t his. He’d never been particular about his sleeping arrangements, and the generic sheets issued by the SGC had been more than sufficient for him. It wasn’t like he slept all that much anyway. But these…these sheets were luxurious. Silky soft, dark grey cotton sheets. 

It was a mix-up with the laundry, and John had ample opportunity to rectify the mistake. Particularly since he knew very well that the sheets belonged to Rodney, who was always bragging about his prescription mattress and high-end bedding. Pretty funny for a guy that regularly fell asleep in his lab, slumped over his computer, and maybe that’s why John sandwiched the sheets between his crisply ironed BDUs and clean towels so that he could sneak them back to his room.

Rodney had a much larger bed, so John had to tuck a significant amount of the fitted sheet under the mattress. It wasn’t a snug fit by any means but it offered him the opportunity to repeatedly run his palms across the soft fabric as he worked the wrinkles and folds out. Rodney had said more than once what the thread count was but John couldn’t remember. It hardly seemed to matter.

The door chimed and John barely had time to fling his blankets over the bed to hide the sheets before Rodney stomped in, red-faced and already in full rant mode.

“Unbelievable! Colonel, I demand that you talk to your jarheads. My personal property was _stolen_.”

Of course he’d miss the sheets right away. John edged away from the bed and schooled his features into the usual mask of bland amusement. The touch of annoyance in his voice wasn’t entirely put on.

“Why would one of my Marines steal from you?”

“Because the scientists aren’t stupid enough to fuck with me, obviously, and your jackboots aren’t nearly as afraid of me as they should be. One of them must’ve overhead me talking about my sheets.” Rodney paced, his hands moving in short, choppy motions that indicated his level of agitation.

“Sheets?” John asked. He forced himself not to glance over at his bed. “Why would anyone steal your sheets?”

Rodney shot him a look of utter disdain. “Eighteen-hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, Colonel. Better than what anyone else around here has, trust me on that.”

“Will it make you feel better if I make some inquiries?”

“Well…yes. Yes it would. Thank you.”

John was a terrible friend. He knew he should come clean, just admit that he stole the sheets and give them back. But he was already imagining how nice it would feel to sleep on them and he wasn’t giving them back before he had the chance.

“You want to get some lunch?” It was a little early but John was desperate to get Rodney out of his room and away from the evidence of his theft.

“I suppose I could eat. But you’ll talk to the Marines, right? Today?”

“Yes, Rodney. I’ll talk to them today.” John practically pushed Rodney out the door, nodding as he had to hear about how hard it was going to be for Rodney to sleep on scratchy, military-issue sheets.

“This is going to affect my productivity, you know.”

John just rolled his eyes, and hoped the sheets were worth it.

*o*o*o*

The day had started with laundry and ended with a systems failure that had Rodney and Radek working frantically in tandem while the Marines evacuated everyone out of the control tower until the danger had passed. John was exhausted; he’d gone back and forth, overseeing the evacuation and trying to help Rodney. By the time he’d gotten to his room it was late and he’d forgotten all about the sheets. Until he slid into bed.

“Whoa,” he murmured. 

John stretched out, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against his bare skin. It was a level of decadence he rarely allowed himself, and he slowly felt all the tension drain out of his muscles. He could only imagine how it would feel in conjunction with Rodney’s prescription mattress and downy comforter, the whole hedonist package.

He pictured Rodney stretched out on those same sheets, wearing one of his silly t-shirts and his boxer shorts with the Batman symbol all over them. John knew well enough how his teammate looked when he was sleeping; they’d shared plenty of overnights offworld. Rodney would be stretched out on his back, hair mussed and lips parted as he pulled in deep, even breaths. 

John shimmied out of his boxer briefs and drew up one leg so he could run the bottom of his foot across the sheets. It caught a little on the ridged skin of his callouses but still felt amazing. How did Rodney sleep on these sheets all the time? Although he probably did more than just sleep.

Suddenly the mental image of Rodney changed. Gone were the clothes, so that it was just Rodney spread out on his bed in a completely wanton fashion, legs bent and eyes heavy-lidded as he stroked his cock. John’s breath caught in his throat and his own hand drifted down to his swiftly hardening erection. He tried never to think of Rodney specifically when he masturbated – it always made him feel vaguely guilty – but even when he just thought of random body parts it always ended up being Rodney’s hand or Rodney’s crooked mouth.

John had never seen Rodney completely naked, but two men didn’t spend as much time together as they did without getting glimpses now and again. Mutually assessing glances at the urinal, changing out of scrubs in the infirmary, and once a chance to get a really good look at Rodney’s chest and broad shoulders off-world when he was being daubed with ceremonial paint. John was a very big fan of ceremonial paint.

He flipped the blanket off to the side to give himself more room to move. John kept his strokes long and leisurely, no need to rush to the finish line. He was contemplating turning over and rubbing himself on those Egyptian cotton sheets when three things happened simultaneously. The door swished open, the lights came up, and Rodney stalked in.

“Colonel, I know it –” Rodney stopped and stared, his mouth gaping open.

John’s hand clenched convulsively, and completely inadvertently, on his cock, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a gasp. His felt himself flush, a full-body flash of heat at having gotten caught with his pants down – in every sense of the word. He reached for the blanket to cover himself with, but Rodney jerked and held up one hand.

“Don’t. Just…don’t move.” Rodney’s eyes passed over John’s body with all the weight of an actual touch, his pupils so dilated that his eyes looked almost entirely black. If he’d been a computer John was sure that Rodney’s brain would be making an audible whirring sound as he assessed the situation and calculated the variables. It was awkward as hell, but being the focus of Rodney’s attention was also thrilling, something John had wanted but never thought he could have.

“You’re jerking off on my sheets.”

John’s mouth was so dry his throat clicked when he swallowed. He’d never felt so vulnerable.

“Were you thinking about me while you touched yourself?” Rodney asked, his voice dropping down to a husky whisper.

He couldn’t make himself say the words, so John just nodded instead. The lights in the room dimmed down and Rodney stepped closer to the bed.

“Show me.”

John had never been one for exhibitionism but the hungry look on Rodney’s face spurred him into motion. He ran his hand up the length of his cock and found that having Rodney’s intense gaze focused on him like a laser was a huge turn-on. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Rodney murmured. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to see you all stretched out on my sheets like that?”

John closed his eyes and let Rodney’s voice wash over him. He heard every harshly drawn breath, every whispered imprecation, and it heightened his sensitivity until he was nearly arching off the bed with every pass of his hand. When he heard the rustle of clothing he opened his eyes again, just in time to see Rodney’s pants drop to the floor next to his shirt. The man palmed himself with one of his big hands.

“Rodney,” John gasped out, his voice sounding needy to his own ears. That was apparently Rodney’s cue to stop watching and start actively participating, because the next thing John knew he had a half-naked physicist plastered against his chest mouthing sloppily at his neck.

“I knew it was you,” Rodney said. He took John’s earlobe between his teeth, biting just on the edge of too hard. John moaned and rocked his hips up. “I just never imagined this.”

It figured that Rodney couldn’t stop talking, even now. But John quickly discovered that the man could be reduced to incomprehensible begging with just a well-placed hand. He grabbed hold of Rodney’s ass through his boxer shorts and jerked their groins tightly together.

“Nnrrgh.” Rodney found John’s mouth and attacked, tongue demanding immediate entrance. John let him in, welcomed him. It was all his private fantasies made real, every half-remembered erotic dream being played out in Technicolor and surround sound.

John tugged at Rodney’s boxers until the other man got the clue and pushed up a little so he could slip them off. As soon as that last obstruction was out of the way John pulled Rodney back down until they were skin on skin from chest to thighs, Rodney’s weight pressing him into the mattress in a way that was making all of John’s nerve endings stand up and sing.

“Hang on, let me just…” Rodney moved, bracing himself on his knees and licking his palm before he wrapped his hand around both their erections.

It was too much for John. He wanted to watch – how often had he imagined what it would be like to have Rodney’s big, deft hands on him? – but he let his head thump back on the pillow and closed his eyes, opening himself up to the sensations that surrounded him.

“Jesus, Rodney,” he moaned, arching up as Rodney set a slow, rocking pace for them. Little sparks of electricity danced up John’s spine.

Rodney was making the most amazingly dirty sounds, and John tried to memorize them…just in case this was the only time he got to hear them.

“Fuck. _Fuck_. So good, John. So damn good.”

Maybe it was the way he said John’s name. Maybe it was the sheets, or the grip Rodney had on his cock. Maybe all three. John came harder than he ever had before, his orgasm wrenched from him and leaving him breathless, boneless and completely blissed out.

He was only distantly aware of Rodney spasming against him, his come warm against John’s stomach. His whole head was filled with a pleasant white noise.

“How do you sleep on this ridiculously small bed?” Rodney griped. He used the excess bed sheets to give them both a perfunctory clean-up before manhandling John until he found a position he liked, which coincidentally had most of John’s ass hanging off the side of the bed.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” John pointed out sleepily. His head was tucked against Rodney’s neck, and he pressed a kiss against the salty skin there.

“Well, we’re never doing this again. I can promise you that.”

Just like that the good feeling John had been enjoying evaporated. Sure, he’d expected it, but that didn’t make it any less disappointing.

“Right. Sorry.” He went to pull away, but Rodney tightened his hold.

“Don’t be an idiot. I meant that from now on we use my bed. At least until you upgrade to something adult sized.” Rodney kissed John’s forehead. “And I expect you to have my sheets washed before you return them.”

“Sure.” John fought a losing battle against the grin spreading across his face, and he absolutely did not snuggle in closer. “Whatever you want.”

“I want _you_ ,” Rodney whispered in his ear.

John couldn’t respond to that, so he threw his leg over Rodney’s and wrapped his arm more snugly around Rodney’s waist. No words were necessary, it seemed; in the next moment Rodney was sound asleep and breathing heavily into John’s hair.

John had a lot of regrets in his life. Stealing Rodney’s sheets was never going to be one of them.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** Just some porn. Because…porn. For some reason I seem to have a thing for Rodney walking in on John masturbating. The things you learn about yourself when you write fan fic. ::grins::


End file.
